


wantyouback.mp3

by nonbinarytaemin



Series: Marching Band AU [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Band camp, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Kibum, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Taemin, Polyamory, alternate title: tomato anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 23:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6727291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarytaemin/pseuds/nonbinarytaemin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know how to play this yet,” Taemin says, and for a moment they think their section leader Jinki is about cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wantyouback.mp3

**Author's Note:**

> nervous freshman lee taemin learns to play the clarinet and is unfortunate enough to have two (2) band crushes
> 
> this fic was a mistake probably

“I don’t know how to play this yet,” Taemin says, and for a moment they think their section leader Jinki is about cry. He closes his eyes and covers them with his hands and stays that way for so long Taemin starts to worry.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way,” he says finally, “But you’ve had the entire summer to learn these songs, so I just assumed – “

Taemin furrows their brow. “I got these songs last Friday,” they say.

Jinki opens his eyes, frowning down at them. “What.”

“I got a letter and it said to pick up our music the Friday before band camp if we didn’t already,” Taemin says, “So that’s what I did.” A couple of their classmates are nodding along with them, but one girl with a blonde ponytail raises her hand.

“I got this music at the end of last school year,” she says, glancing over at Taemin as if she can’t believe they missed out. The rest of the clarinet section mutters their agreement, holding up their folders as proof, and Taemin feels their stomach drop into their shoes. Maybe they weren’t the most attentive student in band, but there’s no way they would miss an entire show’s worth of music, right?

“The directors said they handed them out to your class,” Jinki says, nodding. “So why…” he glances back to Taemin and they tuck their chin down, feeling their face heat up.

“Maybe I was absent,” they say, fixing their gaze on their shoelaces. The worst thing about band was always how often they were called on out to play sections of the music or answer questions or just to prove that the students weren’t paying attention. And it’s one thing to be in a marching band, to perform in front of strangers who would never even know their name, but being singled out in front of their classmates for not being able to even play the music –

“Hey, look, it’s probably not your fault,” Jinki says, sensing how uncomfortable he’s made Taemin and backtracking furiously. “How many of you didn’t get the music back in June?” he asks. Taemin and two of the kids near the back of the group raise their hands. Taemin’s vaguely aware of the blonde girl staring at them out of the corner of her eye.

“Alright. The rest of you can, uh, get in groups and help each other out with any parts you’re having trouble with.” The clarinets stare up at him for a moment, then all reluctantly stand up and shift into smaller circles, flipping through their folders for the first song in the show.

Jinki turns to the three remaining clarinets, pointedly looking at someone other than Taemin. “You three just. Wait here for a second.”

They all nod silently. Taemin pulls the reed out of their ligature and sucks on it absently, watching Jinki sprint to the opposite side of the school’s courtyard, where the saxophones are gathered for their sectionals. There’s a row of seniors at the head of the saxophone group, and Jinki heads for them, launching into an animated conversation that Taemin can’t make out.

When Jinki returns he’s got three of the seniors in tow. “So. Music tests are on Friday,” he says, addressing the three remaining clarinets, “And I still have to work with the rest of the group, so these guys are going to help you out.” He gestures to the seniors behind him. “So, you know. Pair up. Work hard. Do your best.”

With that, Jinki heads off to one of the groups of clarinets practicing.

The seniors stare down at them warily for a moment, saxophones tucked under their arms. “I don’t even remember how to play the clarinet,” one of them says finally.

“Me neither,” the boy next to Taemin says with a smirk.

“Great, we’ll be good partners,” the senior says, grabbing Taemin’s classmate by the shoulder and leading him off to an empty corner of the courtyard. The senior next to him follows suit, unclipping her saxophone before gesturing to the girl at Taemin’s other side.

That leaves Taemin with the last senior—the shortest senior, they realize as they stand up and find themselves already looking down on him. He’s got bleach blond hair and a red scarf tied around the bell of his saxophone, and he smiles up at Taemin as he leads them to a stone bench away from the other clarinets.

“What was your name?” the senior asks him, nudging Taemin so they’ll sit on the bench and standing over them so he can see the flip folder clipped to Taemin’s clarinet.

“Um. Taemin.”

“Great, I’m Jonghyun. I played clarinet for a while so this shouldn’t be too bad.” Jonghyun pulls out his own music folder, flipping through an enormous stack of water-damaged music. Taemin wonders just how much old music he’s got saved up in there. “So where do you want to start?”

Taemin blinks. “Uh. Anywhere is fine.” They’re too ashamed to admit they haven’t looked at their music any longer than it took them to learn the names of the songs. It’s a pretty standard show, from what Taemin’s heard – Michael Jackson, Lady Gaga, some song from a new car commercial that everyone’s been humming. Taemin had assumed they’d be able to pick up on the familiar melodies during group practices and go from there.

“Okay, how about we start with Want You Back? That’s probably the easiest one, right?” Jonghyun flips to a sheet that looks slightly less beat up than the rest. “Have you looked at this yet?”

Taemin hasn’t. They glance down at the music Jonghyun’s holding out, and oh. That’s a problem. “I never learned how to play in the upper register,” Taemin says.

Jonghyun’s face falls so fast it’s almost comical. “You what?”

“Um.” God, this is embarrassing. They know it’s probably not their fault that their middle school band director stopped teaching the class after none of the clarinets could play above the staff, but they still feel guilty about it. “The band director at the middle school never got around to teaching us how last year, and I couldn’t pay for the private lessons, so…”

“Nobody can pay for private lessons,” Jonghyun says, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. “It’s a waste of time.”

Taemin blinks. “Most of my class got – “

“Fuck that. I’m your tutor now,” Jonghyun says, pulling Taemin down onto the bench beside him and dropping the music folder into his lap. “We’re going to learn all of this and it’s going to be awesome.”

“We only have a few days,” Taemin protests.

“Yeah, so we better start right now. Can you read the upper register at least?” Jonghyun asks. Taemin nods. “Okay, good. Let’s start there.”

 

 

Jonghyun, as it turns out, is only a junior. He marches saxophone now but used to play the clarinet, and he still does sometimes for concerts. He has a puppy that he goes home to feed every lunch break, and he spends dinner breaks eating sandwiches with Jinki and one of the trumpets that Taemin hasn’t officially met yet.

And Taemin is a little bit obsessed. But in their defense they’ve spent the last two days doing almost nothing but practicing with him. All their sectional time is spent running over and over their music with Jonghyun, and he’s right beside them in all their marching formations too, making sure Taemin’s at least practicing the fingering while they’re standing at ease. Marching comes pretty naturally to Taemin – they have no problem staying on the right foot or marking time or remembering their place in the drills, which just gives Jonghyun more time to bother them about playing correctly.

“Back straight,” he’s always saying, appalled at the way Taemin slouches over their clarinet while playing. “Good posture gives you good tone.” Once during their practice he goes so far as to improve Taemin’s posture himself, hands on the small of their back to force them upright while they play.

Admittedly, Taemin probably would have sounded better with their back straight if the thought of Jonghyun’s hands on them hadn’t immediately forced all the air out of their lungs. “You’d play better if you were more relaxed,” Jonghyun is also fond of saying.

All things considered, though, Taemin is getting better. Their high notes are out of tune at best and barely more than air at worst, but progress is progress, and the parts of the songs they can play are coming to them much more quickly with Jonghyun than they ever did with the middle school band director.

On the second night they squeak their way through Want You Back without messing up once and Jonghyun hi-fives them so hard they almost fall backwards off their bench.

“See, you’re already getting it!” he says excitedly while Taemin steadies themself.

“But it still sounds – “

“Forget how it sounds, we can work on that tomorrow.” Jonghyun moves to sit beside Taemin now, throwing an arm around them, and Taemin feels their face heating up. “And I’ll bring you dinner or something.”

“Dinner?”

“As a present, cause you’re doing so well,” Jonghyun says easily. He pauses for a moment, then adds “And so we can keep practicing during the second break. We do only have three days.”

The prospect of three days is still more than a little terrifying, but Jonghyun’s smiling at them and Taemin can’t help but smile back. “Alright.”

 

 

On the third morning Jonghyun pulls Taemin out into the courtyard after Jongdae, the senior who couldn’t play the clarinet, steals their bench. “Okay, don’t freak out when I tell you this,” Jonghyun says, moving to sit cross-legged beside Taemin in the dewy grass.

Taemin immediately feels themself freaking out. “What?”

“Well. When you go in for your music tests, they’re going to ask you if you have your music memorized – “

“Oh my god.”

“ – and having it memorized is like 20% of your grade for band camp.”

“Oh my god.”

“I told you not to freak out!” Jonghyun says, clapping Taemin on the shoulder.

“How could that not freak me out?” Taemin says, taking their reed out of their mouth before they chew through it out of worry.

“Look, you’ve been playing the same songs like non-stop for three days,” Jonghyun says, setting his saxophone down across his lap so the grass won’t get it wet. “Your brain isn’t just throwing that away. You’re probably already halfway there.”

That sounds like fake logic to Taemin. They were still messing up often enough to need sheet music just to find their place in the song, and they’re not sure they could make it through without all the little notes Jonghyun’s written across the tops of them. “There’s no way I’m gonna have it memorized,” they say.

“Yes there is, it’s called muscle memory,” Jonghyun says dismissively. “But we’ll worry about that later. Right now we’re going to work on Bad Romance.”

Taemin groans.

 

 

Bad Romance takes a lot more work than Taemin thinks a pop song reasonably should. They spend the entire day working on it between marching formations, and when the director dismisses them for dinner Jonghyun waves them over to the edge of the field and informs them that they’re going to keep practicing.

The football field can only be used for “real practice”, according to the seniors, so Jonghyun and Taemin hop the fence to the soccer field and settle in the grass behind one of the nets.

“I remembered the food,” Jonghyun says, opening his backpack and pulling out sandwiches for the both of them. “Eat fast, though. We only have so much time.”

Taemin unwraps the sandwich and narrowly avoids making a disgusted face at the tomato in it. Nothing quite as gross as raw tomato and soggy bread. They’re about to start pulling the sandwich apart in search of other offensive vegetables, but Jonghyun glances over at them to see if they’re eating and Taemin remembers _he made that for you_ , and then they’ve got no choice but to bite the tomato.

They’re forcing down the third bite of sandwich when the fence rattles again and Jinki jumps over into the field, landing beside Jonghyun. “Can I eat with you guys?” he asks, holding up a plastic tub of what looks like cold noodles.

“Where’s Kibum?” Jonghyun asks.

“Getting food with Woohyun,” Jinki says, sitting down beside Jonghyun and cracking open his noodles. “But I’m tired and I don’t want to walk anywhere.”

“We’ve still got practice to do,” Jonghyun says, glancing at Taemin who’s still struggling with their sandwich. “So no interrupting us.”

“I won’t,” Jinki says. “Do your thing. I wanted to see how they're doing anyway.” He smiles at Taemin over his noodles, and Taemin feels their heart leap up into their throat. And they’ve been trying to avoid it, but they’ve seen Jinki looking at them. And they’re sure it’s just section leader responsibilities, just checking up to make sure they’re getting work done, but Jinki’s little half-smiles when he catches Taemin’s eye and thumbs-ups over the heads of the over clarinet players catch them off-guard every time.

Taemin’s seen Jinki looking at Jonghyun too, and they don’t know what any of that means. It leaves a weird feeling in their chest. Maybe it’s just the tomatoes.

“We might as well start, then,” Jonghyun says, setting what’s left of his sandwich aside, and Taemin gratefully follows suit. “They’ve been having problems with Bad Romance,” Jonghyun tells Jinki as Taemin pulls out their flip folder and reclips it to their lyre.

Jinki shrugs. “Everybody is,” he says around a mouthful of noodles. “It’s a bad arrangement.”

Personally, Taemin thinks bad arrangement is an understatement. They’re trying for the second time to run straight through the song, Jonghyun snapping to keep time, when his snapping suddenly stops in the middle of a measure.

Taemin looks up. Jonghyun’s frowning at Jinki, who’s apparently finished his food and is now leaning his head against Jonghyun’s shoulder, eyes closed. “Uh, did you want me to stop?” Taemin asks. Jinki opens his eyes at the same time Jonghyun turns towards them again and the blood rushes to Taemin’s cheeks so suddenly they’re surprised they don’t pass out.

“No, you’re fine,” Jonghyun says. “Stop distracting me,” he says to Jinki, shaking his shoulder until Jinki lifts his head again, looking hurt.

“I am so tired,” Jinki says again. “I’m tired and I do so much for this band, you owe me – “

“Not while we’re practicing.”

Taemin tries to ignore the pout on Jinki’s face. Jonghyun starts keeping time again and Taemin drops their gaze back to the music, but after Taemin forgets a slur and Jonghyun doesn’t say anything it becomes apparent that he’s not paying attention.

Taemin glances up between notes. Jinki, still offended he couldn’t sleep on Jonghyun’s shoulder, has instead taken to ripping up handfuls of grass and tossing them in Jonghyun’s general direction. Jonghyun makes a valiant attempt to stick to the beat of the song until Jinki dumps a fist of grass onto his head and they have to stop so Jonghyun can splutter indignantly.

“Would you stop?”

“No, it’s a good look,” Jinki says, reaching up and ruffling Jonghyun’s hair so he can’t shake all the grass out. “You should march like that.”

Taemin snickers. Jinki flashes them a grin. Jonghyun manages to grab some of the grass in his hair and tosses it in Jinki’s face with a triumphant laugh.

Taemin sets their clarinet in the grass, figuring they’re not going to get much practice done anyway.

 

 

Evening practice the band is divided up into sections again, indoors this time because it’s too expensive for the director to turn on the stadium lights. Jonghyun sets them up in a corner of the band room behind the piano, and they run through the slurs in the opening of the song until Taemin hits every note in one breath.

“Okay, I want to try something else tonight,” Jonghyun says. Taemin rests their teeth against their reed and waits while Jonghyun stands up, leans over the piano, and shouts “Jinki! Come here!”

Jinki wanders over after a moment, looking down at Taemin over the piano. “What?”

“Can you come keep time for us?” Jonghyun asks.

“I mean, I could…” Jinki says, glancing back at the huddle of practicing clarinets he’s supposed to be instructing. “Can’t you use the metronome?”

“Jongdae has the metronome,” Jonghyun says.

“Use the metronome app.”

“Give me five dollars to buy the metronome app.”

Jinki sighs. “Okay, I can keep time.” He moves to sit beside Jonghyun against the piano, both of them facing Taemin again, and Taemin really wishes the two upperclassmen intent on teaching him to play weren’t so cute and hard to look at.

They move back to Want You Back this time. “Just play straight through,” Jonghyun says. “Don’t worry about squeaking or anything, just keep playing.”

Jinki marks time and Taemin starts, moving through the piece – thankfully – with relative ease. They’ve just reached the chorus when suddenly Jonghyun reaches up, covering Taemin’s music with his hands.

Taemin stops playing, frowns up at Jonghyun. “What are you doing?”

“You didn’t keep playing!” Jonghyun says, crestfallen.

“I can’t play if I can’t see the music.”

“Yes you can,” Jonghyun counters, looking smug. “When you were playing earlier you kept looking up at me and Jinki, and that means you can play without looking at your music.”

Taemin starts. They hadn’t realized they’d been caught doing that, how long had Jonghyun been noticing them staring, oh my _god_ –

“I thought surprising you would work, but maybe not,” Jonghyun continues. “If I cover up the music again, just try to keep playing. Even if you mess up.”

Taemin glances over to Jinki in a silent plea for help, but Jinki just lifts their hands to mark time again, and Taemin is forced to resign themself to their fate.

Jonghyun does cover the music again, earlier in the song this time, and this time Taemin makes it six more measures before stumbling over a note so badly they can’t continue. “See?” Jonghyun says triumphantly. “You do know the music.”

The third time, when Jonghyun puts his hand over the flip folder, Taemin’s determined to keep going. Thinking too hard about the music is only tripping them up, so they lift their gaze instead, looking up into Jonghyun’s face. Their eyes meet, and this time (Taemin is so amazed they almost stop playing) Jonghyun is the one who blushes, who drops his gaze back down to his hands while Taemin plays.

And that’s too much to think about while they’re trying not to squeak too much, so Taemin looks over to Jinki again, still keeping time beside Jonghyun. Jinki glances over, sees them looking at him, smiles, winks at them.

Taemin squeaks horribly, but they’ve still got enough sense to play through the last few measures of the song.

“Ha!” Jonghyun says when the last note cuts off, letting go of Taemin’s flip folder and leaning back against the piano again. “See? Memorized. And you did awesome.”

That was far from awesome, Taemin thinks, still stuck on the horrific squeak Jinki caused. But it was better, was more than they thought they could have done, so they smile anyway.

“Good job,” Jinki says, still grinning at them. And this time Taemin can really meet his gaze, can look at his section leader and not feel like he’s just Shitty Clarinet Player #3.

“Thanks,” says Taemin.

 

 

The last song for the show, thankfully, is a brass-heavy song and doesn’t need a lot of woodwind power from Taemin. Lots of half notes and quarter notes and an excessive amount of rests – Taemin breezes through it in a single day, to Jonghyun’s delight.

The morning of Test Day, as they’ve been calling it, Jinki announces that Taemin and the other clarinets who had been playing catch-up would rejoin the rest of the section. Taemin reluctantly leaves Jonghyun to spend some time trying to familiarize themself with the other clarinets and stealing glances at Jinki while he’s helping someone else.

The band gets dismissed an hour early that evening in preparation for the tests. Taemin stands uncertainly by the bleachers for a full ten minutes after they’re dismissed before breaking down and dashing off to the far corner of the soccer field where they know Jonghyun keeps his case. He’s still there, carefully taking apart his saxophone, and Taemin runs up to him so fast that he jumps.

“Please help me,” they say.

Jonghyun laughs. “Help you with what? You can play all three songs.”

“I don’t know. Help me not suck at them.”

“You don’t suck at them,” Jonghyun says, snapping his case shut and sitting back to look up at Taemin. “But you know what would actually help? Stop chewing on your reed all the time.”

Taemin starts. They hadn’t even realized their reed was still hanging out of the corner of their mouth. “Is that bad for it?” they ask, pulling it out of their mouth and sliding it back into their mouthpiece.

“It warps the wood, so it’ll break faster,” Jonghyun says. “But aside from that, I think you’re set.”

That’s not good enough. “Then can you…can I just hang out with you while I practice?” Taemin asks instead. “I mean, if you’re not…if you don’t have stuff to do.”

“I have dinner to eat,” Jonghyun says. “But I didn’t have plans, so…” he hauls himself to his feet, saxophone case swinging dangerously and nearly taking Taemin out at the knees. “Let’s go,” Jonghyun says, lowering his saxophone over the fence as carefully as possible (he has to stand on his tiptoes so the case doesn’t fall too far to the ground, but Taemin decides not to comment on that).

 

 

Practicing with Jonghyun now is something different, something less like being taught and more like being friends (at least, Taemin hopes). They settle in a corner of the band room, and Jonghyun makes only the occasional comment about their tone or whether or not they’re overblowing and spends the majority of the time filling the silence between songs with one-sided conversation about the band, the music, the classes they’ll be starting in a week.

He steals Taemin’s flip folder again after a few minutes, in the true spirit of his role as tutor, and sits on it when Taemin makes a grab for it. “You’re supposed to have it memorized,” he reminds them, smirking at the defeated look on their face. Taemin spends the next ten minutes playing down towards their shoes, needing something to focus on, before Jonghyun reminds them about their posture again.

Taemin lifts their head reluctantly, hair falling across their face in the process. And before they can even think to flick it out of their eyes Jonghyun’s hand is there, tucking the stray hair behind Taemin’s ear and brushing over their cheek in the process.

Taemin stops playing, turns to face Jonghyun because they’re honestly not sure what else to do. The back of his hand is still resting against Taemin’s face, and they wonder if Jonghyun can feel their cheeks heating up.

Jonghyun looks up at them and Taemin finds themself searching for something there, for an answer to Jonghyun or maybe to Jinki or what they want, what Taemin wants, but all that’s there is Jonghyun smiling at them.

“They’re going to start calling people in for tests soon,” Jonghyun says, pulling back and standing up faster than Taemin really has time to process. “I have to go get my saxophone out.”

Jonghyun heads off towards his locker, and before Taemin can press the issue further the doors are swinging open and students start filing back in, clutching their instruments and looking about as nervous as Taemin feels. It’s not long before Taemin loses Jonghyun in the crowd.

 

 

Freshmen, unsurprisingly, test last. Taemin watches the band room fill up with students and slowly empty again as the seniors and juniors and sophomores are all called out one by one. They catch a glimpse of Jonghyun again, ducking through the doors when his name is called, but Jinki is nowhere to be seen, and soon Taemin is virtually alone in the room, accompanied only by two trumpets who are frantically writing in notes on their music.

“Lee Taemin!”

Taemin starts. There’s a girl in the doorway, her eyes fixed on Taemin as they jump to their feet. They follow her out of the band room and through the back doors of the auditorium.

Jinki’s seated at a table on the stage. He waves to Taemin as they walk in and Taemin stops dead in their tracks, feeling their stomach hit the wooden floor. The senior girl breezes past him, settling into her seat beside Jinki.

“Two more left after this,” she says, “And then we can go home.” She looks up at Taemin, who is still rooted to the spot. “You can sit down.”

Taemin is not, actually, sure they can. In retrospect, they should have known this would happen. They knew the seniors were in charge of conducting the music test, and they definitely knew their luck was bad enough that the universe would set them up to be graded by their stupid senior crush.

They sit down.

“Have you memorized your music?” the girl asks.

Taemin nods silently.

“You’ve already got a better score than all the trumpets, then,” the girl says, making a note on the paper in front of her.

“Taeyeon, be nice,” Jinki says. He shifts forward in his chair a little, looking expectantly at Taemin. Taemin really just wants to sink into the stage floor, but Jonghyun’s reminders echo in their brain and they sit up straighter, clarinet resting on their knee.

“We can start whenever you’re ready,” Jinki says.

 

 

Taemin stumbles off the stage five minutes later, clarinet still shaking in their hands. The test, all in all, had probably gone better than expected – they played every song straight through, and only once did their breath shake enough that Taeyeon raised her eyebrows at them.

They stop just outside the door, leaning heavily against the wall. Maybe if they wait long enough they can stop thinking about how Jinki will grade them and just be relieved that the test is over.

Relief takes a lot longer than expected, and by the time Taemin finds it in themself to move again, Jinki is turning out the door himself and calling Taemin’s name.

Taemin turns, and before they can react Jinki is pulling them into an awkward sort of hug that they can’t reciprocate with their clarinet in their hands. “I’m not supposed to tell you how you did,” Jinki says when he pulls back. “So when you find out you passed on Monday you have to act surprised.”

Taemin’s powerless to stop their disbelieving laugh. “You passed me?” they say.

“Of course we passed you,” Jinki says, one hand still on Taemin’s shoulder. “You did really well.” And Taemin’s smile widens to match Jinki’s own, and they’re so shocked and relieved that they could just –

“Jinki!” someone calls.

Jinki turns away from Taemin, and Taemin really does try not to miss Jinki’s hand on their shoulder. Behind them, Jonghuyn is rounding the corner of the hallway, followed by someone Taemin recognizes vaguely as an older trumpet.

“Can we leave?” the trumpet asks. “I’m seriously about to start eating my sheet music.”

“I think we’re still waiting on Minho,” Jinki says with a shrug. He glances back at Taemin. “Oh, Taemin, this is Gwiboon. I think we told you about her once?”

Taemin looks from Jinki to Gwiboon blankly.

“She goes by Kibum too?” Jonghyun tries.

The recognition must be evident on Taemin’s face, because Gwiboon smirks at them. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you too,” she says. “Jonghyun never stops talking about you.”

Jonghyun looks indignant, but before he can defend himself they’re joined by another upperclassmen that Taemin doesn’t recognize. “And where the hell have you been?” Gwiboon asks, crossing her arms in front of her, and Taemin figures this must be Minho.

“I told you we had soccer practice till 7,” he says.

“Every single day? For a week?” Jonghyun says. “You can’t just miss all of band camp, dude.”

“I can’t just miss practice either,” Minho says, glancing around at the others apologetically until his eyes fall on Taemin. “Oh, hey. Is this the freshman Jonghyun’s been talking about?”

Jonghyun makes a face. Gwiboon elbows him with another smirk.

“Yeah, this is Taemin,” Jinki says, ignoring Jonghyun and Gwiboon making faces at each other.

“Is he coming to dinner?” Minho asks.

Jinki looks over at Taemin. “Are you?” he asks. Taemin figures they might as well.

“Let’s go, then,” Gwiboon says, pushing past the others and leading the way towards the parking lot where Jinki keeps his car. “Before the rest of the band takes all the tables.”

Minho races off after her, but Jinki hangs back with Jonghyun. Taemin glances behind them in time to see Jinki reaching out to take Jonghyun’s hand, Jonghyun leaning in towards the touch as they walk, and finally something about Jinki’s head on Jonghyun’s shoulder and Jonghyun’s pointed looks at Jinki fall into place.

“Are you guys dating?” Taemin blurts out before they can stop themself. Jinki flinches, but Jonghyun looks, if anything, relieved.

Gwiboon stops in front of Jinki’s car, spinning around to face them again. “Did you not tell them you were dating?” she asks incredulously.

“I’m not obligated to tell the whole band about my relationships,” Jinki says easily, but he’s blushing so hard Taemin thinks maybe they struck a nerve.

Gwiboon just rolls her eyes and climbs into the front seat of the car. “I’m calling shotgun,” she announces after she’s seated, so Taemin squeezes into the back between Minho and Jonghyun.

Taemin’s brain is running a mile a minute, trying to piece together how to feel about Jonghyun and Jinki dating (because what they do feel isn’t disappointment, and shouldn’t it be?), but Jonghyun is pressed so close to them, elbows knocking together, that it’s hard to think too much about.

 

 

There’s only one free table when they arrive at the restaurant. Gwiboon makes Minho pull up an extra chair and seats herself at the booth next to Jonghyun. Taemin sits on the other side with Jinki and orders a bowl of mac and cheese and two cookies, mostly listening while the others play catch-up with Minho.

Taemin learns that Minho plays the snare drum, that he’s notorious for missing events for soccer games, that he and Gwiboon live on opposite sides of the same street next to the school (“And I still never see you!” Gwiboon says, pointing her soup spoon accusingly).

They also learn that Jonghyun can hold Jinki’s hand over the table and brush crumbs off Taemin’s chin in the same move. That Jinki really does look at them, out of the corner of his eye, the same way he looks at Jonghyun. That even though Jonghyun and Jinki are dating, and Taemin knows that now, nothing seems to have changed.

That’s a lot to process over a bowl of mac and cheese, so for the most part Taemin tries not to think about. Gwiboon and Minho both ask them about their schedule, and both are disappointed when Taemin doesn’t remember their teachers’ names.

“How are we supposed to make fun of your teachers if we don’t know who they are?” Minho says.

“We can still tell them which ones are horrible,” Gwiboon says with a grin, before Jonghyun elbows her and tells her it’s too soon to scare the freshmen.

It’s a good half hour after they finish their food that Jinki finally decides they’re being a nuisance to the restaurant staff and should leave. Minho and Gwiboon say their goodbyes at the door and head off down the darkening streets alongside the school.

“Drive me home?” Jonghyun asks Jinki the moment he pulls out his car keys.

“Fine.” Jinki turns to Taemin. “Where do you live?”

“Oh, I can just call my mom and – “ Taemin starts, but Jinki cuts them off with a wave of his hand.

“I can drive you,” he says.

“You don’t have to – “

“Too late. Get in,” Jinki says, throwing an arm around Taemin and steering them towards the car. Jonghyun opens the back door for them, and Taemin figures there are worse ways they could spend their evening.

Most of the ride to Taemin’s house is taken up by Jinki and Jonghyun arguing over the music selection in Jinki’s car, Jonghyun sorting through his stack of CDs and Jinki complaining about his choices.

“Why don’t you just plug your phone in?” Taemin asks.

“Taemin, please look at how old my car is,” Jinki says. “She’s dying as we speak.” Beside him, Jonghyun gives up on the CDs and starts fiddling with the radio instead.

He finally settles on a station as they turn down Taemin’s street. “I hope dinner was okay for you,” Jonghyun says, turning his head to look back at Taemin. “I know you just met Gwiboon and Minho, so…”

“No, it was fine,” Taemin says, carefully ignoring the leap of excitement they feel that Jonghyun was worried about them.

“Really?” Jonghyun says.

“Yeah, I like being your third wheel.”

It hits Taemin a second after the words left their mouth that wow, that was not what they meant to say at all. Jonghyun stares at them for a moment before he bursts out laughing, and they can see Jinki grinning in the glow of the street lights too.

“This house?” Jinki asks over Jonghyun’s laughter.

Taemin nods numbly as Jinki pulls up in front of the house. “Look, I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did,” they say once Jonghyun stops laughing. “I really do like –“ you “– spending time with you, I just don’t want to get in the way…?” They’re not sure what else to call the way Jonghyun and Jinki act around them. “Like. You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m a freshman.”

They’re not sure who they’re trying to save this conversation for – Jinki’s shifted in his seat to look at them, but now Jonghyun is turned towards Jinki instead, expression oddly serious.

“You’re…not in the way,” Jinki says softly.

“Jinki.” Both of them turn to Jonghyun now. “We should just tell them.”

Taemin feels their heart leap, lodging somewhere in their throat. “Me…?”

There’s a pause. Jinki glances between Taemin and Jonghyun, glances down at his own hands on the steering wheel. “Tell you that Jonghyun has a huge crush on you,” he says finally, and Taemin thinks for a moment their heart might actually leave their body.

“And…?” Jonghyun says after a moment.

“Why are you making me do this while I’m driving?” Jinki asks.

“You’re _not_ driving, the car isn’t moving!” Jonghyun throws up his hands in defeat and twisting around to look at Taemin again. “What Jinki’s getting at,” he says, voice softening when he meets Taemin’s eyes. “Is that we like you. Like, both of us.”

Taemin stares at Jonghyun for a moment, certain they heard him wrong. And then it all falls into place, everything about these two that they couldn’t explain finally makes sense, and their heart is suddenly so full it’s going to burst. This is stupid, part of them thinks, being this happy when they’ve only known Jonghyun and Jinki for a week, but –

“And Jinki didn’t want to say anything to you because he thought it would stress you out more,” Jonghyun continues, “But then it seemed like you also liked at least one of us? But Jinki didn’t want to tell you that we were dating because he didn’t know if you’d be okay with that, and then I couldn’t tell you anything without telling you we were dating, so – “

“Wait.” Jonghyun, thankfully, stops talking. “Just…wait,” Taemin says again, slowly. They really don’t have enough time to take this all in. “So you both…you’re both okay with…”

“We’ve talked about it before,” Jinki says. “About dating other people, I mean. Or the same person,” he says, finally turning back towards Taemin. It’s dark in the car, but Taemin can see the blush creeping across Jinki’s face, and something about that has them smiling so wide their cheeks hurt.

“If you’re not comfortable with that you can just say so,” Jonghyun says. “But if you ever wanted to…the three of us could do something. Like a date. That Jinki will pay for because he’s the oldest.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, now you want a say in this?” Jonghyun says, grinning at Jinki. They have such an easy relationship with each other, Taemin thinks, familiar like they’ve known each other forever, and now it really hits them that they could be part of that.

“You don’t have to decide on anything right now,” Jinki says, ignoring Jonghyun’s teasing. “It’s not like we’ll have free time anytime soon, with all the band stuff. You don’t have to stress about this.”

“I’m not stressed,” Taemin says, still grinning, and Jonghyun laughs.

“Really, though, just tell us whenever you want,” he says. “Or if you don’t want to. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

And Taemin appreciates the patience, really, and maybe it is better not to agree to a date a week before school starts, but they know their decision is already made.

“Okay,” they say.

**Author's Note:**

> if you were in marching band you should definitely comment and tell me what you played
> 
> if you were in orchestra comment and tell me that you hated the marching band cause i know you did and your anger fuels me
> 
> if you weren't in either just comment and tell me that you love me


End file.
